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20/F/Greenville, SC
"Where the battles are fought, Darkness may swallow you whole.." I am the only one my kind, the only Valk to live. My poetry is ...
where it rains a lot
If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one ...
California
Moved to Allpoetry.com :)
Poems
Denis Barter Apr 2018
The Ewe, You and the Yew.
Denis Barter
Apr 2018
As I viewed the view I could see you, a ewe and a yew.
Then I saw the ewe, under a yew, was looking at you!
But that ewe under the yew looking at you, was a view
which begged the question as to why, the ewe under the yew,
was looking at you, and what was its view of you?
Did you see that ewe under the yew, looking at you,
or did you only see the yew and not the ewe looking at you?,
or was it only the ewe looking at you, and not the yew?
I ask this of you, for I cannot ask the ewe standing under the yew,
nor can I ask the yew, under which stood the ewe,
who was stood looking at you. So what’s your view?
Do you, take the view that the ewe, under the yew
had nothing to do, and was simply under the yew
so it could look at you? Although I’m sure the yew
had nothing to do with you, neither did the ewe,
that was looking at you, from under that yew!
Maybe the yew, under which the ewe stood looking at you,
was a convenient yew for the ewe, to get a good view of you?
That’s my view, as to why the ewe stood under the yew to look at you?
If you know, please tell me do, so I can forget my view
of the question as to why the ewe under the yew, was looking at you!
Then I can bid you, the yew and the ewe, a fond Adieu!
Rhymer. April 21st, 2018.
Then I saw the ewe, under a yew, was looking at you!
But that ewe under the yew looking at you, was a view
which begged the question as to why, the ewe under the yew,
was looking at you, and what was its view of you?
Did you see that ewe under the yew, looking at you,
or did you only see the yew and not the ewe looking at you?,
or was it only the ewe looking at you, and not the yew?
I ask this of you, for I cannot ask the ewe standing under the yew,
nor can I ask the yew, under which stood the ewe,
who was stood looking at you. So what’s your view?
Do you, take the view that the ewe, under the yew
had nothing to do, and was simply under the yew
so it could look at you? Although I’m sure the yew
had nothing to do with you, neither did the ewe,
that was looking at you, from under that yew!
Maybe the yew, under which the ewe stood looking at you,
was a convenient yew for the ewe, to get a good view of you?
That’s my view, as to why the ewe stood under the yew to look at you?
If you know, please tell me do, so I can forget my view
of the question as to why the ewe under the yew, was looking at you!
Then I can bid you, the yew and the ewe, a fond Adieu!
Rhymer. April 21st, 2018.
A bit of fun playing with words. Denis.
rf jordan Apr 2016
awaiting coal
rf jordan
Apr 2016
when for what
have you
stare
in
to
eyes
that are
what for when
ewe took my hand along yore swollen perambulations into nights devoid of air
ewe have never swallowed a trace of light that ewe cannot reflect upon as dust
entombed in heavens disassembled from unleavened brethren
there was always
a core to yore
whimsical strut
as if an avenue
could hold yore
internals eternal
those mettling metals we unleash upon with our ****** toes
galavanting
pearls asunder thunder’s weeping reigns of unsubstantiated all
never there was
a timid breath
ewe did not urn
as if spells of broken gesticulations could volley
a scant clue of what it was to become nothing
that type that trite time follows as we sear
magic into our concrete organs
as if all concrete weren’t asphalt awaiting coal
i succumbed upon your neck
and caught sinewy glimpses of your entanglements as if driven into shock
ewe never stopped smiling
and
in
me
ewe
never
will
have you
stare
in
to
eyes
that are
what for when
ewe took my hand along yore swollen perambulations into nights devoid of air
ewe have never swallowed a trace of light that ewe cannot reflect upon as dust
entombed in heavens disassembled from unleavened brethren
there was always
a core to yore
whimsical strut
as if an avenue
could hold yore
internals eternal
those mettling metals we unleash upon with our ****** toes
galavanting
pearls asunder thunder’s weeping reigns of unsubstantiated all
never there was
a timid breath
ewe did not urn
as if spells of broken gesticulations could volley
a scant clue of what it was to become nothing
that type that trite time follows as we sear
magic into our concrete organs
as if all concrete weren’t asphalt awaiting coal
i succumbed upon your neck
and caught sinewy glimpses of your entanglements as if driven into shock
ewe never stopped smiling
and
in
me
ewe
never
will